Riots run amok deep within my heart triggered by your words that slayed my peace forever. I see flowers smelling of horror and some sort of queasy stench gently mixes with the pleasant evening breeze in all the wrong proportions that when the air caresses my skin through the window sill next to my bed, it bleeds from my nose. My pillow is full of blood, the cuts from the scars have ripped themselves open again, and the gory pieces of my skin and bones burn in anguish.
The barbs from those syllables of something else - fired like gunshots from misguided cannons nailed me upside down to the wretched cross I never imagined I would ever hang from, my veins breaking from within my head after repeated bombs of hemorrhage splatter my brain, and every letter from those words spraying vitriol on my face disfiguring me for good. I have been trying my luck at recouping, but I have lost parts of me that would never wake up again to see the light of day.
Right when I was about to conclude that the damage was irreversible, I found my heal. The balm for deep wounds lies hidden in the happiness you could create in others. I started to take my bag and travel alone, went to places, stepped into zones considered taboo and unsafe, started talking to strangers, men and women who have been impaired with deep hurt, gave away everything I had, with the only intent to bring out all the best smiles I possibly could, from those souls dimmed by smoky infernos of life - till I was sure they were really happy. The answer to most of your life's questions lies in you being the answer to the prayers of others. Happiness truly is real only when shared.
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